Most consider knowing all-consuming love a blessing, but I consider it a curse. A curse I’ll never be able to lift. I’ll never know love again as I did here all those years ago. And I don’t want to. I can’t. I’m still sick with it. There is no question in my mind that for me, it was love. What other pull could be so strong? What other feeling could addict me to the point of insanity? Of doing the things I did
